Vyshkara stared out into the open plains that stretched before her. The flat ground seemed to stretch out forever and ever – farther than she ever could have imagined possible. In the distance, a large grey thundercloud rained down upon a small gathering of trees. The worlds seemed too much – too vast – indescribable LARGE. She turned away, back up a step towards the roaring waterfall.
Looking down was even worse though. In the distance, a mountain that was once home smoked sleepily. There was no going back now, no way back down to those left behind far below. Granny muttered to herself about her lost friend Bumble, a redshirt bemoaned the loss of eggs. There had been so many losses, first to the great wander, second to the pigmen, thirdly to the water.
Vyskara stared longingly downward at the river that snaked back through the jungle towards her home. She could see the lizardfolk and their island village already floating back upriver. Though not kobolds they were still skalykind and she was sad to see them go. As if the last fleeting moment of familiarity was vanishing into the jungle haze.
Taking a pod of fish eggs out of her pocket, she broke through the outer sack and munched hungrily. So much had changed that she almost had forgotten what it was like to not be so hungry. To not hear the song. It was too bad that the brownies had not been palatable, she would have liked to try pickling them for a week as Granny suggested. Even the dead kobolds had been washed away with the water though she had slightly different plans for those than eating…
She fingered the black rocks that she had traded for in the lizardfolk village, humming to herself. It wasn't the song, but it was her version of the song.